فصل 30

An Apple a Day Will Get You Killed

ADD TO MY LIST of Least Favorite Activities: eagle surfing.

The stupid bird shouldn’t have been able to take off with a more-or-less-full-grown Magnus in tow. Yet he did.

Behind me, Blitz and Sam yelled helpful stuff like “Hey! Stop!” as the eagle dragged me through tables, chairs, and potted plants, then blasted through the double glass doors and soared over Charles Street.

A guy having lunch in the tenth-floor condo across the street spewed Cheetos when I shot past. I left a nice footprint on his window.

“Let me go!” I yelled at the eagle.

The bird cackled as he pulled me along a rooftop. “You sure about that? Heads up!”

I twisted, barely avoiding a face-first encounter with an industrial AC unit. I plowed through a brick chimney, using my chest as a battering ram. Then the eagle plummeted down the other side of the building.

“So!” the eagle said. “You ready to negotiate that favor?”

“With a mutant pigeon who steals falafel?” I yelled. “No thanks!”

“Suit yourself.” The eagle veered, slamming me into a fire escape. I felt my ribs crack, like vials of acid breaking inside my chest. My empty stomach tried unsuccessfully to hurl.

We climbed above one of the churches on Boylston and circled the steeple. I had an addled thought about Paul Revere and the whole One if by land, two if by sea thing.

And if you see a dude being dragged by a giant eagle, uh, I don’t even know how many lights that is.

I tried to heal my ribs through willpower, but I couldn’t concentrate. The pain was too intense. I kept running into walls and kicking out windows.

“All I want,” the eagle said, “is a favor for a favor. I’ll tell you how to get the sword, but you have to get me something while you’re at it. Nothing much. Just an apple. One apple.”

“What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that if you don’t agree…oh, look! Pigeon spikes!”

Ahead of us, the edge of a hotel roof bristled with steel like a miniature line of World War I barbed wire. The spikes were there to discourage roosting birds, but they’d also do a great job shredding my soft underbelly.

Fear got the best of me. I don’t like pointy objects. My gut was still sensitive from my recent death by molten asphalt.

“Fine!” I yelled. “No spikes!”

“Say: By my troth, I agree to your terms.”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“Say it!”

“By my troth, I agree to your terms! Yes, apples! No, spikes!”

The eagle climbed, narrowly clearing the roof. The tips of my shoes twanged against the barbs. We circled Copley Square and landed on the roof of the Boston Public Library.

The sword came free of the eagle’s back. My hands unglued themselves, which was great, except that I now had nothing to hold on to. The red curved clay tiles were almost impossible to stand on. The roof slanted precariously. Eighty feet below me stretched a wide expanse of pavement-flavored death.

I crouched to avoid falling. Carefully, I sheathed my sword, which melted back into a length of chain.

“Ow,” I said.

My ribs ached. My arms had been pulled half out of their sockets. My chest felt like it had been permanently tattooed with a brick wall design.

To my left, the eagle perched on a lightning-rod spire, lording over the decorative bronze griffins around the base.

I’d never thought of eagles as having expressions, but this one definitely looked smug.

“I’m glad you saw reason!” he said. “Though, honestly, I enjoyed our little flight through the city. It’s good to speak with you alone.”

“I’m blushing,” I grumbled. “Oh, no, wait. That’s the blood all over my face.”

“Here’s the information you need,” the eagle continued. “When your sword fell in the river, the current carried it downstream. It was claimed by the goddess Ran. Lots of valuable things end up in her net.”

“Ran?”

The eagle clicked his beak. “Sea goddess. Has a net. Try to keep up.”

“Where do I find her? And please don’t say ‘the sea.’”

“She could be anywhere, so you’ll have to get her attention. The way to do that: I know this guy, Harald. He’s got a boat at the Fish Pier, does deep-sea excursions. Tell him Big Boy sent you.”

“Big Boy.”

“One of my many names. Harald will know what you mean. Convince him to take you fishing in Massachusetts Bay. If you cause enough of a ruckus out there, you’ll attract Ran’s attention. Then you can negotiate. Ask her for the sword and one of Idun’s apples.”

“Eden.”

“Are you just going to repeat every name I give you? It’s I-D-U-N. She distributes the apples of immortality that keep the gods young and spry. Ran is sure to have one lying around, because seriously, once you see her, you’ll be able to tell she’s not good about remembering to eat her apples. When you have the apple, bring it back here. Give it to me, and I’ll release you from your vow.”

“Two questions. Are you insane?”

“No.”

“Second question: How is fishing in the bay going to create a ruckus that attracts a sea goddess?”

“That depends on what you fish for. Tell Harald you need the special bait. He’ll understand. If he protests, tell him Big Boy insists.”

“I have no idea what that means,” I confessed. “Assuming I meet Ran, how am I supposed to bargain with her?”

“That’s three questions. Also, that’s your problem.”

“Last question.”

“This is four now.”

“What’s to keep me from getting the sword and not bringing you an apple?”

“Well, you swore by your troth,” said the eagle. “Your troth is your word, your faith, your honor, your soul. It’s a binding oath, especially for an einherji. Unless you want to spontaneously combust and find yourself trapped forever in the icy darkness of Helheim…”

I chewed my lip. “I guess I’ll keep my promise.”

“Excellent!” The eagle flapped his wings. “Here come your friends, which is my cue to leave. I’ll see you when you have my fresh produce!”

The eagle soared away and disappeared behind the glass walls of the Hancock Tower, leaving me to find my own way off the roof.

Down in Copley Square, Blitzen, Hearthstone, and Sam were just running onto the frozen lawn. Sam saw me first. She stopped in her tracks and pointed.

I waved.

I couldn’t see her expression, but she spread her arms like, What the heck are you doing up there?

With some difficulty, I got to my feet. Thanks to my ValhallaCare health plan, my injuries were already starting to mend, but I still felt sore and stiff. I picked my way to the edge of the roof and peered over. Magnus 1.0 never would’ve considered it, but now I plotted a series of ten-foot jumps—to that window ledge, that flagpole, the top of that light fixture, then the front steps—and I thought, Yeah, no problem.

In a matter of seconds, I’d safely reached the ground. My friends met me at the sidewalk.

“What was that about?” Blitzen demanded. “Was he a giant?”

“Dunno,” I said. “His name is Big Boy, and he likes apples.”

I told them the story.

Hearthstone smacked his forehead. He signed: You swore by your troth?

“Well, it was either that or get shredded by pigeon spikes, so yeah.”

Sam stared at the sky, maybe hoping to see an eagle she could hit with her ax. “This will end badly. Deals with giants always do.”

“At least Magnus found out where the sword is,” Blitzen said. “Besides, Ran’s a goddess. She’ll be on our side, right?”

Sam snorted. “I guess you haven’t heard the stories about her that I have. But at this point, we don’t have much choice. Let’s find Harald.”